


Take My Hand

by Lovefushsia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: The boys find a bolthole to wait out the police during their 'hostage' moment. They might as well make the most of the alone time.





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hand holding *sigh* There should have been more of that.

"Take my hand," Sherlock cried as they slowed a little, he didn't want to pitch them both head first into the road.

John looked across to him and despite the glare he twisted his wrist and grabbed Sherlock's hand. It was warm against his palm and Sherlock's chest tightened. His heart thudded, adrenalin coursing through him, but he wasn't even out of breath.

He tugged John's hand and they swerved left into an alley. In his moment of hesitation he had led them into a dead end.

"Shit," John hissed. "What now?"

Sherlock didn't hesitate again, up and over - that was the only way. The wrought iron gates weren't too high, they could manage it. Sherlock set a foot into a horizontal bar a third of the way up and hefted himself up until his arm dragged and he realised John was still on the ground.

"Sherlock," he cried, as Sherlock looked down. "We have to work together," John gritted out, arm stretched to the limit.

"Sorry," Sherlock said. "There," he pointed, just as John stepped one foot onto the bin beside him.

Sherlock waited for him to be able to reach the top of the gate and together they both climbed over, jumping down onto the other side and grinning at each other before setting straight off, hands clasped again.

They could still hear the sirens blaring, blue lights flashing off the buildings around them, as Sherlock raced them along to ­­­­Waterloo Bridge. He hadn't been to this hideout for some time but he kicked at the door until it flew inwards, pulled John in after him and slammed it shut.

Darkness surrounded them instantly and Sherlock reached for his phone, flicking on the torch and scanning around the interior as they caught their breath.

"Nice place," John murmured from close beside him, his arm pulled Sherlock's as he brushed at his clothes. Sherlock shone the light over his body, just giving himself the confirmation that John was ok. "I think you could have made a little more effort, you know, cleaned up a bit before bringing a date out here."

Sherlock looked at him, lowering his phone so that it cast a dim light all around them. "A date?" he asked, the expression on John's face was simply charming and Sherlock smiled knowingly. "I apologise, yes, it's not quite the perfect location is it?" He moved closer as John looked up at him, flicked off the light and waited for his vision to adjust. The small space was empty, completely cleared of any furniture he had left here the last time he'd needed this particular bolthole. They would have to make do. He reached out and brushed gentle fingers down John's cheek; he could feel that John was smiling.

"I don't suppose you have a key for these things?" John asked.

Sherlock pulled their joined hands up to his face, kissing John's exposed wrist. "No," he murmured. "Do you think we can work around them?"

"Oh, I'd say so," John said decisively.

Sherlock grinned. He moved closer, John wrapped his free arm around his waist and they were kissing. Sherlock shoved lightly, pushing John firmly back against the door and moving in quickly to recapture his lips and link their forcibly joined hands together again. John's face rose up to meet his lips and Sherlock pressed him into the door with his chest, leaving his free hand to roam around John's fun spots.

It hadn't taken long to figure out exactly what made John orgasm in the shortest possible time. But it was even more enjoyable for them both when Sherlock learned how to keep him on the edge for as long as possible, until John was swearing so much he ran out of words.

In here, in this rather dank hole beneath the bridge, wasn't exactly the time to play games.

"I'm going to make you come now," Sherlock whispered between nuzzling kisses to John's cheek and neck.

John shivered in his arms. "Do it," he said, voice quivering a little already.

Sherlock kissed him again, amazed at his own response and adoring John's reaction. He loved kissing John. Initially it was all about John, his reactions, what he enjoyed most. But gradually he became aware of just how quickly his own heart became frantic, how shallow his breathing became when one or both of them was about to orgasm.

"Mmm," John murmured, and Sherlock's momentary distraction was gone. His hand had found its way into John's pants and John's cock was a solid length in his palm as he pulled up and curled his fingers around the head, sliding slowing back down John's shaft and letting his long fingers tease his arse just a little.

John was making those sounds that made Sherlock want to do things to him that couldn't be achieved wearing handcuffs. The metal clanked at his side as he raised their joined hands.

Sherlock twisted and grabbed his hand, shoving it back to the door beside John's shoulder. John groaned again, a gasp escaping as Sherlock's finger breached his hole just a little. With just the one hand though he was neglecting John's cock each time he made a move on his arse. But Sherlock had other means at his disposal.

Their hands had to lower again as Sherlock sank onto his knees and tore open John's jeans, gaining full access to the beautiful, thick shaft that Sherlock hungered for more than he ever had for cocaine.  He wouldn't quite describe it to John in that way of course.

His lips met soft, smooth skin as he pressed a kiss to the end of John's cock. His free hand clasped a good handful of arse cheek and he pulled John to him, keeping his lips tight around the head of his cock as he sucked John in.

"Oh yeah, God, _Sherlock_ ," John said, always sounding quite surprised by his levels of pleasure when Sherlock did this.

Sherlock withdrew, sucked on his finger for a moment before easing it back into John's hole and sucking his jutting cock back between taut lips. John swore at him this time and Sherlock smiled with his mouth full.

John's free hand threaded into Sherlock's hair, holding on, almost cradling his head, never forcing or even coaxing. The chain of the cuffs was jangling by his ear as John's hand moved, or shook as he tensed. Sherlock could feel it in John's hips and thighs as he continued to ease that finger in and out of his arse.

He hummed a little, knowing that John was close, desperate to make it as intense as possible for him. John responded by swearing more loudly and repeating Sherlock's name over and over as he strained against the cuffs, against Sherlock's hold on him. John became so beautifully oblivious to the rest of the world when they did this. Completely focused on the moment, on what Sherlock was doing to him.

Sherlock curled his finger, rubbed on John's prostate and eased his lips back down his shaft, sucking and swirling his tongue, massaging with his lips around the swollen head. With a final grunt of pleasure, fingers gripped tight in Sherlock's hair, John came - Sherlock's mouth filled with warm, luscious cum. He licked and sucked until he had taken every drop and John's thighs were quivering against him.

"Sherlock," John groaned. "Oh, fuck me that was good," he murmured. "Just be gentle taking that out?" And Sherlock realised he was still up to his second knuckle in John's arse.

"Ah, sorry, yes, it does feel a little... snug." He got carefully to his feet, John helped using his cuffed hand. Sherlock tried an experimental, gentle tug and John tensed up again around his finger. "Oh," Sherlock said. Then he leaned in and kissed John with all his recently acquired skills, pressing him into the door again. Those tight muscles relaxed a little and with a gentle twist and more lovely moans from John, Sherlock's finger was free. John looked up at him, eyes drowsy, a grin on his face.

"Good date, Sherlock. One of the best yet."

"Let's get out of here," Sherlock whispered, close to his ear, feeling John shiver again under his hands.

"Yeah," John said.

"Maybe we can put these to use again later?" Sherlock added, giving the handcuff key a quick flick and releasing John's wrist.

John just shook his head. "I knew you had that all along," he said smiling. He took hold of Sherlock's wrist and took the cuffs from him, pocketing them. "Reckon we'll switch next time," he said softly.

Sherlock smiled back. "That might be interesting," he agreed. "Can we still hold hands on the way home?" he asked, as he tugged John away from the door and opened it a crack. Clear.

"You're crazy, you do know that?" John said, sliding his hand firmly over Sherlock's arse and giving a squeeze.  

Sherlock looked back over his shoulder. "Of course I do, that's why you're here," he said, and gave John a wink.

John took his hand when they were clear of the bridge and Sherlock couldn't have cared who was after them now.


End file.
